


Final Thesis

by Sunny_Dee



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU Fic, Abusive Parents, Angst, Cotton Candy Fluff, DO THEY GET TOGETHER TOO SOON???, Fluff, I want them as my professors, John has more brothers, Johnlock is amazing, M/M, PTSD John, Probably., Professor John Watson, Professor Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock with a manbun cause why not??, They just need to be happy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but it goes away soon, college professor au, john is trying his best, kind of like the amount in Performance in a Leading Role, let them be loved, lots of fluff, or my parents, please let them be happy, read that fic because this one sucks, some Christmas-y things, they're both the most amazing teachers ever.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-10-21 03:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17635175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunny_Dee/pseuds/Sunny_Dee
Summary: Capt. Dr. John Watson is a second-year professor at the University of Westminster teaching Biomedical Sciences.Professor Sherlock Holmes is a fifth-year professor at the University of Westminster teaching Criminology. His brother is the dean of the school.Sherlock thinks that every other professor is simple and boring.John thinks that the other professors are too stuck-up and rude to him.Until they meet each other because Mycroft does some meddling.





	1. Falling and falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So this is my first Johnlock fanfiction so if anyone has any advice I would love it! Thank you so much for reading already, by the way. And I'm super excited to begin this lovely au!

John was falling every night as he closed his eyes. Falling and falling into a deeper abyss of memories. Captain John Watson, the once strong army doctor, now reduced to a crying and shaking mess due to his imagination. His bloody stupid imagination. John had been back from Afghanistan for 2 years. It was PTSD, his therapist said. The memories of being an army doctor will stick with him for a long time. John hoped every night they would go away. But nothing has worked.

John has some baggage. A lot of baggage. More baggage than any 28 year-old should have. He lives in a small, shoddy flat near his job. It’s all he can afford on a cheap pay and an army pension. He still has his PhD and his MD to fall back on so eventually, he could move someplace better. John tried to look on the hopeful side of things when it came to his monetary situation, despite how bleak it looked.

On the 14th of November, Dr. John Watson walked down the street heading to work, cane in hand to help him walk with his limp. He wished he could bike into work but his leg couldn’t handle it just yet. He soon made it to the entrance of The University of Westminster, at which he was a professor of biomedical sciences. He has been for 2 years, but as he was only a professor of biomedical sciences, not in a medical school (despite Mike Stamford’s insistence upon them co-teaching at Bart’s), his pay wasn’t incredible. John walked slowly into the lecture hall he had to work with. It wasn’t the largest but, it worked for teaching the students.

As he approached his desk at the front, he noticed a person facing the wall. John was rather confused so he called out,

“Hello? Who are you and what are you doing here?” he asked the figure.

The figure turned around. He quickly recognized it as Mycroft Holmes, the dean of the school. “Ah, Dr. Watson! No time for niceties. Come here.”

John shrugged, used to the eccentric nature of the dean. “Sir, what do you need? I can promise you, all of my midterm grades are in.”

Mycroft sighed. “This is not about that. The university has decided to do a togetherness project in which professors are paired up and have to do a full week of lessons to both of their classes on a combination of both of their subject fields.” John felt incredibly nervous. He had always disliked the other professors as they always seemed to look down at him. He definitely didn’t come from prestigious backgrounds, like they did. Mycroft obviously took note of his reaction and went on speaking, “Your partner will be Professor Sherlock Holmes, also known as my brother. Please be prepared for his visit. Most likely at lunch he will be here. Goodbye, Dr. Watson. And Good luck.” With that, the umbrella-carrying dean left the empty lecture hall, leaving John to think. 

_Sherlock Holmes._ The man was notorious for his fast and aggressive teaching approach and his ruthless attitude towards other professors. It’s safe to assume that John was nervous. That’s an understatement.He was terrified. John’s head swirled with ideas of what the professor must look like. Maybe an old man with wrinkles, or a middle aged man who was balding. John tried to hide his anxiety throughout the morning while teaching his classes. He was a student favourite, telling stories and making plenty of jokes as he discussed medical science.

Soon, it was lunch and John was practically shaking in his Converse sneakers. He was very nervous to meet the man who was said to be the most eccentric professor on campus. Halfway through lunch, his lecture hall doors opened and a man slipped inside. John looked up from his cold thermos of tea and bag of crisps. “Hello?” John asked, looking at the figure curiously. He brushed off his shirt front and stood up to greet the man that walked in.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” a baritone voice, blanketed with posh accent sounded from the professor as he turned around. John looked at him and his knees turned to jelly. Sherlock Holmes was most definitely not a balding middle-aged man or an old-man with wrinkles. The professor looked a few years younger than John. Maybe 24 or 25. He had curly, raven-black, shoulder-length hair that framed a face of ivory skin. His eyes were a kaleidoscope of greens and blues, flowing and ebbing to one another like the sea and underneath those were heavy, purple eye bags, standing out against the pale skin of his face. The man’s cheek bones were ravishing and sharp and his lips were a solid cupid’s bow. John was at a loss of breath and words, cheeks red and brain foggy. It took him a moment to process the question.

“Uh… Afghanistan. How did you know?”

“I didn’t know. I observed. Anyway, my brother already came to discuss the campus project with you, correct? Of course he did, the micro-managing elephant.” Sherlock said, rolling his eyes and John let out a quiet chuckle. With that, Sherlock smiled a bit before his face reverted back to a stoic, neutral look. “How about we have some Chinese at my flat at 6 and we discuss it there?”

John nodded and prayed he wasn’t drooling over this professor. John was very comfortable with his bisexuality, but he’s never felt **this** attracted to anyone before. Sherlock began to walk away. “Wait- I don’t know the address! Or a thing about you and we’re going to your flat. At least your buying me dinner first, but jeez.” John tried to get Sherlock to turn back around and come back.

Sherlock turned around and smirked. “I know you’re an army doctor and you were invalided home from Afghanistan 2 years ago. You’ve got a brother that’s worried about you but you don’t want to go to him for help. Possibly because he’s an alcoholic but more likely it’s because he recently walked out on his wife. I know that your therapist thinks your limp is psychosomatic, quite correctly I’m afraid.” He took a breath. “So, that’s enough to go on isn’t it?” Sherlock went back towards the door, stopping midway through. “Oh and the address is 221B Baker St! Afternoon!” He winked and left.

John was left with an intense blush on his cheeks and a confused expression. “What. The. Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A QUICK NOTE: The reason Sherlock's hair is longer is because I'm a slut for Sherlock with a man bun and John is too so thank you and good night!


	2. Bonafide Genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock have a typical dinner between two workplace acquaintances. Just your typical, friendly dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I just want to thank everyone for all of their comments and kudos they left on my last chapter! I hope I can soon get a posting schedule going. I'm currently trying not to spit out my tea at how shocked I was at the response. So thank you!

John left the school at 4, nervous for his meetup with Sherlock. That was it. A meetup. Nothing less. Nothing more. Not a date. Just two workplace acquaintances having a meal and discussing work. Not a bloody date. Sure, Sherlock was hot as hell and John was very interested in the other professor but that doesn’t mean that the man was interested in John. John was normal, ordinary. He didn’t have an amazingly bright personality or an amazing body. He was rather short and he hated to say this but, he had gained some weight since Afghanistan. He was painfully ordinary.

Sherlock Holmes was extraordinary. John knew that he was young, but he’s been a professor for 5 years. He must’ve gotten the job right after he graduated. John marveled at that realization of his. _Sherlock Holmes is a bonafide genius._

John was very intrigued to learn more about the man that evening, so when he had started to walk to Baker Street, work bag slung over one arm and his cane in the other, it was at a brisk pace. His nose was red from being exposed to the cool late-fall air and his hair was messed up due to the wind. He quickly arrived at the door of 221B Baker Street and tried to organize himself in the reflective surface of the shiny door knocker. When he felt satisfied, he took a deep breath and rang the bell. ‘Not a date. Not a date. Not a date,’ John repeated to himself in his head, clenching his teeth. The door opened.

Sherlock Holmes was breathtaking. His curly hair was tied up into a loose bun at the nape of his neck, a few stray curls had escaped the bonds of the dark blue elastic he used and he had taken off his crisp suit and put on nicely ironed slacks and a plum shirt that looked like it was made of silk. Sherlock’s piercing eyes glanced up and down John’s body, scanning him. “Inside?” The low voice snapped John out of his thoughts about Sherlock.

“Oh yes, of course.” John said, soon stepping into the hall.

Sherlock led John up a flight of steps. As he waddled up them, John counted the steps, taking a breath in and out whenever he climbed one, desperate to calm himself down and focus on the task at hand, not giving into his bloody stupid impulses. He managed to make it into a messy flat. Papers were stacked onto every surface and there were bullet holes in the walls. There was a messy music stand near a window and an open violin case beside it. On the mantle was a real skull and beside it a stack of papers with a knife stabbed into them. John pointed it out.

“Who is that?” He chuckled a bit.

“A friend. He helps me sometimes.” Sherlock answered rather quickly. “Take a seat. I’ll ask my landlady to make you a cuppa. She probably won't mind.” He offered. John chose a rather comfy looking chair and took a seat, leaving his cane beside the chair. Sherlock looked over at him fondly, feeling like John already added so much to his rather lonely flat. He looked like he already belonged in this flat. He then cursed himself for feeling sentiment.

“How can someone so well put together be so unorganized?” He wondered aloud.

“It’s my second job’s fault. As well as being a professor of criminology, I am also a consulting detective. Only one in the world. It helps my study.”

John nodded in amazment. “That’s incredible. Is that how you knew about my past?” John asked curiously. “How did you get to all of your conclusions?”

That’s when Sherlock began rattling off how he knew about John’s military career, his limp, and his brother. John simply exclaimed. “Amazing..” He looked up to Sherlock in awe. Sherlock felt his heart thump in his chest.

“That’s not what most people say.”

“What do they say then?”

“Piss off.” John started chuckling. Sherlock joined in. After a moment he asked, “Did I get anything wrong?”

“I got shot in the army in Afghanistan, I do see a therapist who thinks I have PTSD, Harry has a drinking problem and is divorcing Clara-”

“So I got it all right, Yes!-” Sherlock’s paused in his excitement when John interrupted him.

“Harry is short for Harriet.”

“A sister! There’s always something!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, there is an appearance of manbun!lock so hhhhng  
> I will deliver on that more soon  
> AND ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! DJ OUT!


	3. Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John make lesson plans.

After some tea and a silent dinner of Chinese take away, John finally got up the nerve to talk to Sherlock. “Hey Sherlock,” he gulped, “ready to do some work?” He asked. Sherlock nodded and sat in the chair across from John. It was obviously Sherlock’s chair. The way the pillow was and how he sat in the chair. John pulled his laptop and course book out of his bag. He watched Sherlock just pull out his laptop and sit there, waiting.

“So what’s the game plan?”

“Huh? Game plan? I can see you used to be a rugby captain but neither of our current occupations include a game plan. Oh, you mean lesson plan?”

John chuckled and nodded. _How is he so clueless?_ “Yes. But soon. I have to get home soon. It is late.” John said glancing at the clock. It was already 7:30. Where did the time go?“So let’s get to it?”

Sherlock nodded. “I actually had quite a few ideas…” Sherlock stood up and paced about as he bounced off several lesson plans. John typed them all down onto his laptop. After 2 hours of going back and forth, they had two solid plans.

“These look bloody excellent. Can you do all of my lesson plans?” John asked jokingly, a twinkle in his eye.

“Only if you do mine first.” Sherlock said in John’s face in a joking way. Their eyes interlocked for a brief moment. John froze, a blush rising to his cheeks and his pulse rising. Sherlock’s mind flashed through the symptoms. _Blood rushing to cheeks, pupils dilated, accelerated breaths, biting lower lip, what does that mean-OH._ Sherlock began blushing aggressively. John leaned in a bit closer.

“Um, am I reading this wrong?” John asked to Sherlock. Before he could say anything, Sherlock placed his lips onto the other professor’s. John, unsure of what to do, kissed back. After what felt like a glorious eternity, Sherlock pulled away. He was shaking nervously. “That was um… good.”

Sherlock just nodded and hesitantly said, “Good yes.”

“Sherlock-”

“John, don’t try to deter me from doing this. Would you.. Would you want to go out to dinner sometime? I could take you somewhere nice. There’s an Italian down the street?”

John nodded. “It’s just that-”

“No.”

“I have a lot baggage. I am a war vet, who has PTSD and got invaldided home. And I have a daughter.” John said looking away from Sherlock. “Now, you won’t be so eager to go to dinner with me, will you?” He laughed bitterly and got up, packing his things up. “Now, it’s been lovely flirting with you all evening, but I should go before you punch me for leading you on-” John’s knees went weak when Sherlock leaned in and kissed him passionately.

“You. Are. Brilliant.” Sherlock said softly as he pulled away after a large moment. “Angelo’s 6PM tomorrow?” John could only nod. “Good. text me. I left my number on your documents.”

John nodded, a bit overwhelmed. Scratch that, a lot overwhelmed. “So this is it? A date? You aren’t deterred by my baggage?”

Sherlock gave John a lopsided smile. “Of course not. You are very interesting.” Sherlock helped John with his coat and led him to the door before pecking the other’s lips again, gently. “Good night, Dr. John Watson.”

“Goodnight, Professor Sherlock Holmes.” John turned away before slowly making his way back to his shoddy flat.

_**I have a date with Sherlock Holmes!** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH  
> So it's almost midnight when I'm writing this chapter but I want to thank everyone for their support!  
> This story may only be 4 or 5 chapters long, as I'm almost finished all of the ideas I wanted to hash out in this.  
> I'm a very tired bean so goodnight to all and hopefully you enjoy this rather short chapter!


	4. Utterly Amazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has something to ask Sherlock.  
> Something big.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof. So I meant this to come out on Valentine's Day. But then life got in the way and this chapter ended up being longer then I wanted it to be, so I hope that isn't too much of a problem!  
> Every comment, kudo, and read is super appreciated by me!!

John was amazed. Utterly amazed. He was in an Italian restaurant with candles on the table and a large window seat, eating the most fantastic Italian food he had ever had. But that wasn’t the most amazing thing about this evening. In fact, those things didn’t even get close to how amazing being with Sherlock Holmes was. Sherlock had claimed earlier that day in text,

_Sometimes I won’t talk for days on end or I’ll play the violin. Will that bother you? -SH_

John’s response to that was simply,

_Nothing you could ever do would bother me. -JW_

_How do you take your coffee?-SH_

Sherlock had hand-delivered a hot coffee to John’s classroom at 10AM. Everything was to John’s liking and when John’s students saw this, their eyebrows raised and some giggled. John just smiled and went on with the lesson. Soon it would be the end of term and John had to make sure his students learned everything in time for exams. No time for him to explain the possible-boyfriend relationship he had with Sherlock.

But despite Sherlock claiming he never talked, the man had a lot to say to John. Sherlock himself was even shocked by this revelation. John was happy to listen to the melodic voice, for he felt it soothing every little bit of tension he had in his body. He intertwined hands with Sherlock over the table, smiling happily at the other. They spent their dinner date smiling and laughing, enjoying each other’s company.

###### 

Several dates later, past final exams for the term and grading papers, it was soon Christmas break. John had been quite excited for this time for a while, building up the courage to ask Sherlock something. Something big.

On December 14th, a certain professor of biomedical sciences was sitting on his sofa in a darkened sitting room, the only light radiating off of his phone screen. John’s fingers fluttered over the pop-up keypad on his phone, wondering how to word this. He decided to just call up Sherlock instead.

“Hey, Sherlock?” John nervously.

“Hello John. Is anything the matter? Need me to come over?”

“No, I was just wondering if… ifyouwouldliketomeetRosieandthenmyparents?” John asked quickly. Sherlock went quiet on the other end. “Is it too soon? I’m sorry!” He exclaimed.

“I’m coming over.” Sherlock said quickly before hanging up. John began to hyperventilate and panic, the frenzied emotions flowing over him like waves. Was he drowning again?

Yes. He was. He was drowning in uncertainty and fear. In anxiety and sadness. He was being pulled under. The cold emotions splashing him harshly, as he gasped for air, trying to claw himself out until the doorknob jiggled and in walked Sherlock.

“John?” Sherlock’s eyes scanned across the darkened flat until he saw John, curled up and sniffling, his whole body shaking. Sherlock immediately walked over to John, pausing his deductions about his place of residence to sit beside him. “Oh, John.. do you need a hug?” John nodded and Sherlock gladly scooped up the other into his arms. “Hey… it’s going to be okay.” Sherlock said in a tenderness John had never known him to have.

After minutes of Sherlock holding John and whispering sweet nothings to him, John was calm enough to talk. “I’m sorry,” John said, looking down and feeling embarrassed, “I shouldn’t have asked you so soon into the relationship. I don’t want to change anything. I’m sorry I am even **having** this bloody anxiety attack!” John’s voice raised as he put his head into his own hands. “Do you want to break up with me?...” he asked after a silent moment, his voice unsteady and unsure.

“No, of course not! John, I came over to see you. To make sure you were okay." Sherlock pressed soft, chaste kisses to John's scalp and tear-stained cheeks. After a moment he said, "Also I need to say that I want to meet them all. It’s been a glorious month.” Sherlock pressed a gentle kiss to John’s temple. “Plus, it’s our one month anniversary.” He added.

“Sherlock Holmes? Being sentimental?” John joked. “Never!” They both chuckled.

“I know. But I feel like I’m falling in love with you.” Sherlock said honestly.

“I.. I do too.” John was at a loss of words. Sherlock held John even closer. “Thank you so much.” They fell into a comfortable silence, filled with warm breaths and soft touches. “Want to meet Rosie now?” John asked quietly.

“Yes. Yes please.” Sherlock said enthusiastically. John got up and walked into a bedroom. He came back holding a small 1 year-old, blonde child in his arms. Rosie was babbling and reaching out for John.

“Hey Rosie, here’s Sherlock. He’s going to hopefully be part of our lives for a while.” John smiled at Sherlock. “Want to hold her?” He asked Sherlock who nodded and took her carefully from John. He smiled and began cooing to her, saying soft words and cute things to her.

“I love you already, bumblebee…” Sherlock whispered. John’s heart melted. They were positively adorable. If he could, he would keep this moment forever. John got tears in his deep blue eyes as he looked on at the scene. The two people that meant the most to him in his life.

Rosie had soon fallen back asleep in Sherlock’s arms, sleeping soundly. John had wiped away his tears. John whispered,“I’ll put her in her crib and then we can sit and talk some more. Or sleep.” He added, yawning.

“Sleeping.. Together?”

“Yes. Oh god yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and have a good night!-DJ


	5. Reluctant Admissions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip down a not-so merry memory lane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, um, by the way, you guys can talk with me more on my tumblr: https://sunny-dee-j.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> YAYYY!!! Social media outreach!

John had woken up the next morning next to the most gorgeous man he had ever met. The night before he was not drowning in the past, but of happy thoughts for the future he may have with Sherlock. That was until he remembered what he had to say to Sherlock. What he had to admit. The fear of that shook him to his very core. The past had come back to catch him and pull him back into its depths. Then Sherlock woke up and gently kissed John’s cheek sleepily.

“Hey, John. Good morning.” He mumbled to John, cupping his face. “Good morning, my sunshine.” John couldn’t stop a smile from Sherlock calling him sunshine.

“I love you.” John said, his voice still coated in sleep. Sherlock thought it sounded like warm honey, slowly dripping off a spoon into a steaming cup of tea.

“Love you too.” Sherlock was now partially awake, or awake enough to talk like a semi-normal human being. He went quiet to prompt John to talk.

“Sherlock.. What have you deduced about me?” John asked simply.

“Many things. Your military career, your alcoholic sister, your flat..” Sherlock trailed off.

“No, there’s something there that you’ve failed to mention that I know you’ve noticed.”

“You.. you have an abusive, alcoholic father and your mother passed when you were 10.” Sherlock said in a quieter, less brash tone.

John nodded, swallowing loudly. “My dad… is a homophobic piece of shit.” He took a deep breath in, in desperate need of some sort of calm. “But, Scotty invited me to family Christmas Eve dinner. He said I could bring Rosie and my special someone. I told him about you just after our first date.” John managed to chuckle. “Scotty is a great brother. He’s got a wife and kids of his own too..” he mentioned. “You’ll like him. If you come of course.” John added hastily.

Sherlock took a moment to process all of the information he was getting from this. He nodded for John to continue.

“So I want you to meet my family. And my dad will be there too.” John swallowed rather loudly. “I don’t want him to say anything to you but,” he paused, “he’s a big part of me. Part of how I am the way I am.” John shrugged.

“John,” Sherlock was for once struggling with words, “I understand the family issues. You know my brother. How overbearing he is. But he also saved my life.” It was Sherlock’s turn to swallow down his doubts and fears. “I.. I used to use drugs. Cocaine and heroin, mainly.” He admitted. John’s eyes widened. “I’ve been clean. For over 5 years.”

John placed a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder, sensing the other’s worry. “Sherlock, as long as you stay clean, we’ll be okay.” He reassured. Sherlock nodded slowly in response. 

“We’ll be okay.” Sherlock echoed.

“We’ll be okay.” John repeated, pressing his lips to the man in front of him’s.

And for once, both of them actually believed those 3 words.


End file.
